First, here is one of my favorite pictures of Jack.
He was a sweaty, exhausted mess but still had this great smile for me.
And on to what I've been thinking about today, which is funny kids.
Situation: Mike's cousin is driving with her 4 children (and maybe a carpool friend or 2, I don't remember). The Kardinal Offishall song “Dangerous” is playing on the radio.
Actual Conversation between Mom and her daughter, A, who was 7 at the time.
A: Mom, why is that lady so dangerous anyway?
Mom: I don't know A, maybe she's not very nice.
A: I think she's dangerous because she's got diabolical boobs and can shoot milk out of them!
Yes, this is an extremely precocious child. We always hear fabulous stories about all of the things she says/does. She is so spirited, carefree, and witty, and I would love for any of my kids to be just like her. A 7-year-old who correctly uses the word diabolical? To describe lady parts? Sign me up.
I worry, though, (I do this a lot) about having the kid that other moms shun because they see this type of spunk as a problem. When do we have to decide what to do about this? So far, Mike and I play our iTunes library at high volumes, unabashedly singing along with uncensored versions of all types of music. Since Jack's language repertoire consists of “Dada,” “Mama,” “Jet,” and “yeah,” this is not yet a problem. In a year, he will be able to repeat a lot of what he hears. In two to three years, he will start asking millions of questions. In four to five years, might he be the kindergartener that is taking kids' good snacks in exchange for the close-but-probably-not-quite-there answers to queries like “What is a disco stick, and how do you take a ride on it?” (Thanks Lady Gaga for that one.)
The same idea of uncensored living so far also goes for our language in general, our same wavelength sense of humor, and even the things we say to Jack in a tongue-in-cheek way. I'd rather my kid see me as a real person than a robot, and I don't want to feel like an overly saccharine sweet mushball around him, but I do want to set a good example. I'll have to work on that one. The scariest thing is that if/when there is another baby (settle down, it's not happening any time soon) we won't have the same freedom that we do during this time with Jack. He will be there, lurking, waiting for us to change the lyrics to kids' songs and calling us out on it. *We have been known during an especially long day to edit "The Wheels on the Bus" such that the Mommies and Daddies on the bus say "shut the hell up" in a very sing-songy way. Sometimes you just need it to get through the late nights.*
On a related note, I once had a two-year-old in my daycare class who taught the other kids to slam their hands on the table and say “God dammit!” Just wanted to share that one.
In closing, another classic quote from cousin A. Preface: she is allergic to a LOT of foods.
Mom: I keep trying to have her try little bits of things that she has been allergic to to see if she's grown out of any of the allergies, but she won't do it.
A: How about we go to a doctor's office and have a professional check that kind of stuff?
And one more:
(To my sister-in-law): Do you like butterflies? You look like the kind of person who would love butterflies.
How could I ever punish a kid that was so quick? I'd be in hysterics all the time.